Last August, Hal Koerner ran the 473-mile Colorado Trail in nine days, 10 hours and 19 minutes—over two days faster than a four-year-old record by Buzz Burrell, and 40 minutes under a record set while he was on the trail. Here is the story of this record.

I put my arm around Hal’s shoulder and he reciprocated. We didn’t look at each other but focused on the clearing rainstorm that had just soaked us. Rays of sun were now lighting the low, rolling hills that surrounded Saquache Park.

Seven days and 305 miles ago at a trailhead in Waterton Canyon near Denver, Hal Koerner and I put into motion a dream. We had envisioned running the Colorado Trail from Denver to Durango together, covering roughly 50 miles a day to finish in nine days. For seven days we had kept on schedule. Along the way, we passed through six wilderness areas, seven national forests, and eight of Colorado’s mountain ranges. We spent the majority of our time at altitudes over 10,000 feet and endured the weather that accompanied those heights and locales—wind, rain, snow, cold, as well as hours of gorgeous clear sunshine.

On the seventh day, as I stood there with my arm still wrapped around Hal, I told him that he needed to continue without me. Over the past three days what was once a dull ache in my knee had become a knife-like stabbing pain that would cause my knee to lock and occasionally bring me to the ground. I couldn’t run, let alone walk at even the slowest stroll. I told Hal that he had miles to travel and a goal to achieve. We had friends, family, and faithful crew members waiting for us, and my injury wasn’t going to let us reach them at our predetermined time. Hal assured me that he was content on walking the rest of the way to Durango if that would assure us finishing together. The idea of setting a record had completely dropped from his mind; he was concerned only with continuing together. The journey had now clearly become one about friendship and not about running.

On the trail, Hal and I had experienced ordeals that bond friendships and create life-long memories. During a cold rainstorm just outside of Lost Creek Wilderness at the end of day one, we had no choice but to mingle among 100 head of cattle, following their churned-up, overgrazed trail through shoe-sucking wallows and manure-laden puddles and bushes. On day three we considered ourselves lucky as we crossed over 12,000-plus-foot Searle and Kokomo Passes in heavy wind, freezing rain, and too-close-for-comfort thunder and lightning, only to find a plaque placed along the trail in remembrance of a hiker who was killed there by such a storm. After midnight on day five, while traversing the Continental Divide near Marshall Pass, lunacy set in as we sang clips of Guns ’n’ Roses and nursery rhymes to each other.

For seven days we had complained, laughed, planned, and pushed each other over every hill, rock, mountain, and mile of trail. Neither of us was prepared for what was now happening. As difficult as it would be, I was insistent that Hal continue. It hurt me more to turn my back on Hal and walk away than it did to run on my damn knee. I felt as though I was letting us both down.

That night, Hal got lost in LaGarita Wilderness and spent hours above tree line wandering between rock cairns through thick fog, driving rain, and wind-blown ridges. It took him more than 10 hours to cover 15 miles. Waiting for him at Spring Creek Pass, where he was due to camp for the evening, I couldn’t help but blame myself for his misfortunes.

When word got out that Hal needed help, friends from Colorado and Utah mobilized. His pace and spirits improved with the influx of support. I traveled to remote trail access points with other crew members—aiding Hal helped me work through my own personal issues. Two days after we had split up, Hal arrived in a cold downpour at Junction Creek, the trail’s terminus near Durango. That evening at dinner, a local reporter asked Hal what the most important factor was that got him to finish. He pointed across the table at me and said, "I know I never would have made it or even thought about it if it weren’t for him."